


Festival of Nights by Bonita del Rio

by Legion FanFic Archivist (Hanofer)



Category: Legion of Super-Heroes (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 06:36:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5617123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanofer/pseuds/Legion%20FanFic%20Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Era: Classic. A new version of the miracle occurs on Talok VIII. Warnings: An explanation of Chanukah is in the text.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Festival of Nights by Bonita del Rio

The second sun was beginning its descent. Gim Allon took the small, nine-candle holder from its protective case. Carefully, he dusted off the silvered conglomeration of tiny, mud-brick buildings, even though he never allowed it to get dusty. Brown eyes gazed at the two suns and decided it was finally sunset and the ceremony should begin. He pulled a box of candles out of the case and carefully placed one in the middle and one on the far right side. He lit the middle one, the shamus, and used it to light the other, reciting the ancient prayers he learned in childhood.

As he was finishing, his comrade and host, Tasmia Mallor, entered quietly and watched him. He turned and saw the worry pinching her face. "No word on the others yet?" She shook her head. "Should we take it as a good sign that the peace talks are going well?"

"I don't know. The Yakka-Mahor sued for this peace, but they are cunning. It could be a trap." Deceptively soft blue arms hugged him. She needed the reassurance too. "What was the ceremony you were performing?"

"Oh, tonight is the first night of Chanukah."

"Does that have something to do with the potato pancakes you bring us around Earth's winter equinox?"

"Well, yeah."

"What's the holiday about? I've seen you perform the service, but I never learned its meaning."

"I'm not the best storyteller, Shady, but I'll try. The Sinai area has always known war and occupation. One time, before the first Industrial Revolution, we were occupied by the Greeks who wanted us to change our ways, so they defiled our Temple. A group of freedom fighters was able to defeat the Greeks and began to rebuild the Temple. They discovered that the oil to light the Eternal Light was only enough to last a day, and the nearest source for oil was four days away. A runner was sent to get more oil, and while he was gone, the Eternal Light stayed lit. The miracle of the Light staying lit, and our victory over the Greeks are what we celebrate. Each candle will represent one of the eight days that the oil sustained the Eternal Light. We fry the potato in oil as a symbol of the miracle too."

"You're right, Gim. You're no storyteller," Tasmia teased.

"I'll settle for being a nice, literate guy."

"You are; you'll make someone a wonderful husband, someday, who can put your wife to sleep with a story."

"Maybe, but she doesn't know that yet." After a strained silence lapsed, he asked, "Do you think the others are all right?"

"Probably. The Yakka-Mahor sued for this conference. And if they're lying, that won't be an easy team of Legionnaires to take down. Not with Cham, Karate Kid and Dawnstar as the fighting part of that force."

"Y'know, Vi and Brainy know how to fight, too."

"Better than the average Terran, I'll grant you, but still, there are better warriors on Talok VIII."

"Thanks for making me feel better," Gim groused playfully.

Near sunset on the second day, a guard spotted a burdened kalick meandering towards the City's walls. Slung over the animal's back was an ambassador's corpse. The eyeless husk stared at the guards who studied the rosary wrapped around its neck, the alien, golden belt strapped on its waist and the rings placed over the bloody stubs of fingers in a parody of the marriage ritual. "Call the Champion," the senior guard ordered. 

Gim was just finishing the ceremony for the second night when Shadow Lass rushed into his room. "We've got something." Without another word, they flew to the corpse. Instantly they recognized the meaning of the belt and rings. "The others have been captured!" Tasmia hissed. 

Gim walked up to the beast. 

"What is he doing?" a guard demanded. 

"He is a trained S.P. investigator," Shadow Lass countered, "and I defer to his experience." 

"Easy, girl," Gim muttered to the kalick. "I'm a nice human and you're a nice camel-thing. I just want to see what you've got." 

The beast shied away from the alien scent. Tasmia came up with a handful of salt and the animal began to lick it. "Here, faithful one, your reward for serving us well," she sang in the Mahor language. The animal was grateful and ignored Gim, who found a message chip. 

At Science Police headquarters on Talok VIII, the beast's package was examined and the message tape played. The worst scenario was realized. The others were taken hostage in exchange for a list of demands the Governors would not even hear. 

"What are the demands?" Gim asked as the conversation lapsed from Interlac. 

"The usual. Forty-odd 'political martyrs' freed... a chance to return from the lands they lost a century ago... reparations for the hard life they had to lead since their exile." As Gim listened to the list Shadow Lass translated, he sarcastically wondered where he had heard lists like this. The same people who faced the Greeks also faced demands like this during the terrorist warfare of the last millennium, according to his mother. Tasmia went on to explain that if these demands weren't met in a standard day, the captive Legionnaires and ambassadors would die slowly of heat, thirst and asphyxiation in their tombs buried somewhere in the desert. 

Gim sighed. "Sounds like time to hit the panic button." 

"Agreed. I'll stay here and see if I can pound some sense into these too-proud fools. You make the report." 

The second night merged into the third day as Gim was reporting the disaster to Lightning Lad. 

"I'll do what I can here, Gim, but the Khunds are getting restless again. I have to consider what's best for the galaxy." 

"But those our are friends down there, Garth! And they may die if we can't help!" 

Garth sighed. "Work with the S.P.s there. I'll send a team as soon as I can." 

While Gim was trying to arrange a rescue, the ones who needed the rescue were slowly regaining consciousness. Dawnstar groaned and tried to sit up, only to find herself pinned. Roughly, she kicked Shrinking Violet. 

"Oww! What was that for?" Violet protested immediately. 

"You are laying on my wing." 

"Sorry, get whoever's on my back off, and I'll move. What happened anyway?" 

"We were gassed," Dawnstar answered as she heard Karate Kid's wheeze steady and become controlled. 

"Val, get off us!" Violet growled. 

"Only if you promise to get on top of me, Vi." 

"What??" 

"Or Dawny. There's not enough room for five of us and Dawny's wings. You'll have to shrink." 

Violet sighed in relief. 

Val touched the body closest to his arms and knew it was Chameleon Boy. Gently, he massaged certain nerve endings and the Durlan awoke, perceived the situation and became a Korballian lightning bug. 

Dawnstar gasped at the small size of their cell. Val revived Brainiac Five and asked him to calculate how much air was left. 

"Can't you break us out?" Brainiac asked. 

"I could, but the pressure's wrong. I think we're several decameters underground," Val replied. "So, how much air do we have, Brainy?" 

"I can't tell. There are several factors I can't determine. How long we've been unconscious is one. What our respiration rates were while we were unconscious are the others. We need to stop talking and conserve our oxygen." 

"Do you think we can hold on until there's a rescue?" Violet asked worriedly. 

To tell the truth, I wouldn't count on any more than forty hours," Brainiac replied. "However, oxygen deprivation is not an unpleasant way to die." 

"If you don't mind leaving an ugly corpse," Karate Kid added. 

On the fourth night, Tasmia burst into the tent. "We're not getting anywhere with diplomatic or military channels! You know what they're doing, don't you?" Gim waited for her answer. "With Legionnaire martyrs for our cause, they think they'll have the U.P.'s support on whatever action they want to take, including mass murder disguised as military strikes. Gim, for the sake of our friends and my people we have to find the others!" 

"I agree. But you do realize that we'll be breaking Legion protocols in doing this without government sanction, right? We could get arrested." 

"Only if we get caught, or are unsuccessful." Tasmia smiled her hunter's smile. 

"Okay. Let's do it. But give me a few minutes, will you?" 

Mechanically, Gim lit the fourth of the eight nights of candles in the 3500 year-old ritual and chanted the prayers while his mind was elsewhere. Tasmia's persistence and long-windedness paid off near the end of the fourth day and with hope and determination, he lit the fourth candle and joined the search party. 

For two hot, exhausting, and irritating days, the search parties found nothing. Gim was near tears when he lit the sixth candle. "Adonai, I've never prayed to you in a moment of fear before, but my friends... they're good people... they don't deserve a death like this. Please, I know you don't grant miracles often, but let them be alive and well... we need them...." 

The search continued through the night and into bright daylight when the heat sapped the strength out of the searchers faster than the hopelessness of the task. 

"We'll find them," Gim told Tasmia grimly. 

"Alive? Hopefully," the blue Legionnaire added. "Keep your head covered." 

"Please, I was born in Israel. Why haven't we seen any of the nomads?" 

"They disappeared when they heard the military was taking part in this," a guard answered. "Conniving infidels!" 

Gim kept silent and went to rest in the shade of his tent. He dozed until he heard a shout from Shadow Lass and emerged to see two familiar blurs: one red-and-blue, the other orange-and-red. 

"Oh, Mon," Tasmia cried and ran to the black-haired man in red who was slowly unwrapping his cape from a body. "It's so horrible!" 

The third member of the rescue party staggered as Mon-El released him to comfort his sobbing lover. Element Lad pulled off his space helmet as Wildfire and Colossal Boy supported him. 

"I am... never again... going through hyperspace in a cape!" the blond man gasped. "How's the situation look, Gim?" 

"Not good. The air they should have had must have ran out by now, if we believe the message. We can't find any Yakka-Mahor to question." 

"The Yakka dirt slip into the sand as soon as they are done polluting decent lives," a soldier spat. 

"He's a charmer," Element Lad muttered. 

"They're all pretty much like that," Gim assured Jan. 

"Mon!" Jan called. "Start looking for them. I'll join you as soon as I get used to the environment." 

"There's something I want to do, too," Gim muttered and went to light the fifth candle. This was not a celebration, he realized, it was a countdown. One more candle, one less night that would be a chance for the others to be alive. One more desperate prayer for a miracle that couldn't happen. 

"The festival of lights?" Jan asked behind him. 

"Yeah," Gim grunted. 

"It's strange how most Terran holidays around the Winter solstice revolved around light and miracles." 

"Yeah." 

"We'll find them." 

"In time?" 

"Maybe that's the miracle we need." 

"Believe me, I've been praying for it." 

"So have I." 

"Jan? You came in here for something?" 

"An analgesic. I'd settle for a chemical miracle to help me at this point." 

Gim smiled. "A miracle that comes in a small package, coming right up." He tossed the drug to Jan, who smiled back. Then he went out to brief Mon-El and Wildfire and watch them search. It was still sitting around and doing nothing, he realized, but at least it didn't quite feel so useless. 

Mon-El's search was methodical. He combined X-ray and telescopic vision to search the planet carefully, grid by gird. Wildfire's method was adapted from sonar as he flung himself out of his containment suit and searched as a screen of energy probing layers of sand, but there seemed to be no pattern to his searches. Disgusted, Drake Burroughs chose another continent and searched again. 

Jan Arrah came out and conversed with Mon-El and Tasmia about what searches they had done, and the rationale behind them. Then he sat in a tent and closed his eyes. He looked like he had fallen asleep, but Gim know better. At least, he hoped he knew better. 

Methodical searches take time, he had to remind himself, and Tasmia as they continued to wait and fret. At times, they would exchange the waiting stations and the electronic searching, still each finding nothing of interest. 

Finally Gim lit the sixth candle, but he could not bring himself to say the prayers that stuck in his throat as the sand choked him and dried his tears before they could form. He hated Talok VIII, its phony attempts at peace, its unforgiving climate. He hated it for stealing his friends and his hope for their lives. They had to be dead by now. 

But still, patiently and methodically, the Legion searched for their missing friends. 

The suns began setting long hours later and Gim performed the ritual again for the seventh time. All through the night and day, Mon-El and Element Lad searched until the found the pair of tombs in the fading sunset. Element Lad made sure the sand would not fall in any excavation before helping Wildfire and Mon-El dig the boxes out. He opened the first one and found the diplomats... all dead in the fetid, unbreathable gasses that hissed away into the dusky, hot atmosphere. The diplomats' eyes and tongues protruded, blackened, their bodies rigid in prayers that did them no good, as far as the Legionnaires could tell. 

The Legionnaires all exchanged desperate glances before Mon-El brought up the second cube and ripped it open without any hope. 

Val gasped at the air and light. Violet and Cham tumbled out of the box and Brainiac Five crawled out while Wildfire hugged Dawnstar. They were alive! 

"Thank you. Thank you for this miracle, Adonai," Gim nearly sobbed. 

"Don't be ridiculous, Colossal Boy," Brainiac Five protested. "We used our powers to keep ourselves alive. Cham and Violet were too small to use much oxygen, Dawnstar doesn't need to breathe and Val slowed his respiration and kept me unconscious for the most part." 

Mon-El and Element Lad exchanged odd glances. "Brainy," Mon-El began, "There wasn't any air in there; there hadn't been for at least four days." 

Stunned looks settled on the rescued party's faces. Gim looked at the sky and asked if the situation was under control. 

"Sure, Gim," Jan answered. "Why?" 

"There's something I have to do." He flew back to the tent, returned with the wax-covered Menorah and filled the candle places completely. 

As he lit them, he said the prayers in Hebrew and then translated them into Interlac for his friends. 

"Blessed art Thou, Oh King of the Universe, who has sanctified us by His commandments and commanded us to kindle the lights of Chanukah." 

Then he covered his eyes and chanted, "Blessed art Thou, Oh King of the Universe, Who wrought the Miracles and for our fathers in days of old at this season." 

"And for us," he added.

  



End file.
